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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29021679">seclusion</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/shumais/pseuds/shumais'>shumais</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Gen, Introspection, Oma Kokichi-centric, saiouma is not the main focus but they have a little moment near the end</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 14:00:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,541</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29021679</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/shumais/pseuds/shumais</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After the fourth trial, Kokichi hid in his room for days.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>98</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Completed stories I've read, Quality Fics</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>seclusion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s not sure how long it’s been since he seated himself on his bed and zoned out. Slowly but surely though, he gets sucked back into the world. Immediately he thinks back to everything that happened. This was getting tiring. Having to put on this act for them, because it’s what they’ve always wanted isn’t it? They wanted a villain, with the way they constantly antagonized him even before the catastrophe that today was that’s what he’s lead to  believe. Now’s the perfect time to become it for them.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And for Gonta... he rubbed his eyes. There’s no reason to think about Gonta right now.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1"><span class="s1">Even with how much of a mess this room was, he’s able to find his book overflowing with plans to bring the killing game to a close. He flips through the plans that were harmless, to plans that were a bit more horrid, to the plan he started not long ago. </span> <span class="s1">Unsolvable murder. He wasn’t sure how he’d go through with it at the time of jotting it down, but with the new elements added from the recent trial... he has an idea. </span></p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">One thing he’s certain about now is that there’s an audience. The recent events are just what he needed to solidify this theory. Why be so desperate to make things interesting if only one person, the mastermind, was watching? Surely they’d be satisfied with the constant torment they put everyone here through. So it leads him to think there’s more to it than that. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1"><span class="s1">He taps his pen on his chin, his brain has to get moving again soon, instead of staying stuck in the state it is now. It needs to accept the fact that Gonta and Miu are dead. That two people were dead because of him. Tragedies such as this </span> <span class="s1">would be unavoidable in this shitty situation. People would die, and others would be the cause. He was wrong for believing it’d never get this bad the first day they were locked in this school and told to kill each other. </span></p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He shouldn’t have been so laid back... there’s always things he believes he should’ve done, because he’s the Ultimate Supreme Leader. What kind of leader allows the game to pick people that still had a chance to be saved off one by one? What kind of leader lets themself become a puppet of the one thing they promised they’d destroy?</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s undeserving of this title, but there’s still one things faulty leaders can do. How many of them are left, seven? Six would get out if he goes with suicide, five if assisted. Assistance is not something he wants anymore, because really... he can’t afford to let anyone else die, but it makes the plan more efficient. In fact this is the only way it would work.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There was an assassin who could easily figure out the cause of death. Kokichi himself being the culprit and victim would not work out. So who could he get to help him? Well, Shuichi is off the list. He’s someone who fights for the truth. Even if he’s a liability, if this plan goes to shit or gets too risky, he’d need the detective to see through it and stop it before it ends up killing them. To sum it all up, Shuichi is useful, someone like him can’t die. <strike>He doesn’t want him to die.</strike></span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Maybe if he wishes hard enough, he can accidentally get to mastermind to work with him, and their demise would come. But wishing does nothing in this world. This world...</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Where are they?</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His writing comes to a halt. Where exactly are they? If there’s an audience, that means there are people in the outside world, alive. His grip on the pen tightens. Which means what he saw beyond that door in the underground tunnel was merely a fabrication. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He tosses everything aside, hopping off his bed, and starts pacing around. If what he saw was fake, then what was planted in that flashback light was also fake. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Holy shit.” He murmurs into the hand covering his mouth. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1"><span class="s1">There was always something so off about this all. He thinks back to the beginning, to the middle, to now, over and over to pick up things he’s heard other others mention. </span> <span class="s1">Tiny bugs even though since the beginning bugs were stated not to be found in this place. The stars sprinkled in the sky being strange, or <em>different</em> than remembered. Both things stated by Gonta. </span><span class="s1">The way everything in this place goes against common sense, everything. Exisals, talking robotic bears, sixteen ultimates gathered, their amnesia, the existence of the flashback lights. There’s just too many things to keep track of.</span></p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1"><span class="s1">...Tomorrow. He’ll save unravelling this for tomorrow. He’s got loads of time as long as nobody tries to kill him in his sleep. He laughs. Oh how disgustingly funny it is that he’s painted multiple targets on his back, and how if anyone killed him it’d be justified because of everyone’s burning hatred for him. </span><span class="s1">But that’s fine, it’s understandable. It’s what he aimed for since the beginning. It hurts just a little, but a little pain and nobody to turn to is fine as long as it ends this all. Though... he did have some to turn to before this. He stops in his tracks.</span> </p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That’s starting to piss him off quick, how he can’t go even a second without thinking about Gonta.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He hums desperately, searching the room for ways to distract himself from that. Finding the mastermind, that would suffice. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He stands idly in front of his whiteboard, staring blankly at Kiibo’s picture. Kiibo was always a suspect. He can’t put his finger on it, but he just knows the robot is associated with the mastermind somehow. Against his own will, maybe? Or maybe he’s just clever and does a good job of acting oblivious and helpful. <strike>Gonta wanted to be helpful, you took advantage of that.</strike></span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He furrows his brows, lifting his gaze to Maki’s picture. She was immediately taken off his suspect list, why? Because it’d be too obvious. Her big secret of being an assassin would just make her more of a suspect, but that’s just what threw him off. A mastermind would want to hide their role more than their talent. Everyone already trusts her even when knowing she’s an assassin anyways, so what would be the point of hiding that over the mastermind role? So he pushes her low on the list of suspects, though, in the future she may become a hindrance.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His gaze travels to Himiko’s picture, then immediately darts away for someone else. She wouldn’t do anything, her excuses of being too lazy or tired seemed genuine enough. These days she seems more energetic though, for Tenko and Angie it seems. But she’s not a threat. He doubts she can even lift a knife without shaking like a leaf, let alone consider murdering another.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Again, his gaze looks to somewhere else after spotting Tsumugi’s picture. She’s plain, and annoying. But there’s something off about her, he feels <em>frightened</em> at the sight of her, and yet he can never tell why. Maybe he’s just afraid to be slapped into a glittery dress for the sake of her having a model, or maybe it’s really something else. He doesn’t think too much of it though, since the fear goes away and is replaced with boredom the second she opens her mouth and rambles about things he doesn’t care about. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Shuichi. It’s basically impossible at this point for him to be the mastermind. He fights for the truth, for everyone’s survival. If the true mastermind enjoyed the act of using something as precious as a human life for satisfaction that much they’d let everyone die, they’d fill themselves with despair. Shuichi... he isn’t like that. Kokichi knows.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He sighs. And finally, Kaito. To say he was irritating would be putting it lightly, his little stunt today made him furious. Kaito wanted him to be the culprit, even when the evidence cancelled out his claims, he pushed and pushed even if it got everyone killed, and for what? For Gonta? He never cared about Gonta, none of them did. Because maybe this could’ve been prevented if they treated him right. All they did was treat him like a child and push him away, and that lead to his feelings of wanting to be useful, which lead to him-</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">What the fuck is he thinking. He’s the one who showed Gonta the flashback light. The others aren’t to blame. This wasn’t even supposed to be about Gonta, he was supposed to be analyzing <em>Kaito</em>. He deadpans. From the way he’s been speaking about them, it’s almost as if <em>he’s</em> the mastermind, dissecting every little detail about his puppets. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He throws his hand over his face and cackles. He might as well fucking be the mastermind. His act from earlier... it was just to throw everyone off him so he can plan alone for the most part, but maybe he can make use of it. Maybe it’s finally time to go all out.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1"><span class="s1">Become the mastermind. Except he wouldn’t allow anymore killings like the true mastermind, he’d usurp their role to end it all. He thinks about the pieces of the story those flashback lights have given them so far. He can create a story out of them, one that would suck the motivation out of everyone until they’re dry, useless meat bags. </span> <span class="s1">It’s dirty, it really is, but he really needs them to just give up already. Their want of escaping the school is what makes them bloodthirsty. Angie had the right idea. He also needs time. It feels like his just gained a limit. </span></p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The nighttime announcement comes on and the screen lacks the Monokubs. Instead Monokuma is there. The shrill voice coming out the bear made his blood boil, but now’s the time. He slides on his shoes and exits his prison of a room. Nobody is around... but he has a hard time believing that. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1"><span class="s1">Quick on his feet, he makes his way towards the rock with the message, oh yeah that was him by the way. If it was still possible, he'd thank Gonta </span> <span class="s1">for bringing this up the earlier days into this hell. It wouldn’t be enough but it’s a good thing to tamper with and use to convince the others he's the mastermind.</span></p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He crouches down beside it, picking up the chisel he hid in the grass to carve the rest of the message into the rock.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This world is mine </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kokichi Ouma.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He tosses the chisel away, it has no more use. Grinning, he rose to his full height and walked to the middle of the area, examining the bars of their enclosure. <em>What’s out there? </em></span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s almost time...” He mutters to himself mostly. If someone’s outside at this time of night, he wants to make sure they hear him loud and clear. He wants the <em>mastermind</em>, the audience, anyone who opposes him, to hear. “Now is the time...”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He spins back around to the direction of the dorms, grin on his face stretching wider than ever. “I’ll end this killing game.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<hr/>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1"><span class="s1">He’s sneaking out again, to Miu’s research lab. </span> <span class="s1">It hasn’t been long since he declared his end to the game, but night may be the only time he can sneak around from now on. He’d rather not get strangled by <em>you know who</em> during these trips.</span></p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He makes it to the entrance of her lab, taking a few wary glances around. You can’t be too careful. He steps inside, avoiding anything dangerous looking. These labs... he’s starting to think they weren’t made for the student’s talents, maybe just to trigger a murder. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He scans the room for Electrohammers, Electrobombs, and the Exisal remote. Maybe even the bug vacuum he asked for not that long ago. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1"><span class="s1">A sound from outside throws him off, someone was coming. He finds a place to hide quick enough, staying quiet and making himself as small as possible. </span> <span class="s1">The door opens, the sound of metal repeatedly hitting the floor rings throughout his ears. Must be Kiibo, maybe he’s actually the mastermind and he heard Kokichi earlier. Maybe he’s here to kill him so the “glorious” killing game can never end. </span></p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But instead the robot sighs, looking around the room, taking in the inventions Miu had created in this short time. “Iruma-san... why would you do this?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He shuffled around, careful to not make a sound. So he was attempting to talk to her spirit... like it’d be haunting this damn lab. Stupid, but this is his chance to catch a Kiibo slip. Kiibo’s alone, or so he thinks... he can take a break from his act. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kiibo fumbled with his hands. “We could have gotten away from this place together. You didn’t have to resort to something as horrid as murder. Now look what happened... you were murdered!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There’s a pause, then he starts again. “I just hope it didn’t hurt too bad. I would not know what strangulation feels like because,” He chuckles dryly. “I’m only a robot. Even if you were... a bit brash, thank you so much for the kindness you have shown me. I refuse to let another murder happen... the rest of us will survive. As we get closer to the answers we’ve sought, this game will come to its long needed end!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s genuine. Everything he said was genuine. He lowers Kiibo on the list of suspects.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1"><span class="s1">Kiibo smiles to himself, hoping his words could somehow reach Miu. After one more scan around the room he leaves. The door shutting finally gets Kokichi out of hiding, and he looks for the things he desires. </span> <span class="s1">Quicker, because suddenly he can’t stand being in this place. Maybe because Kiibo’s speech made him learn he stole someone important away from the robot, or maybe the fact that Kiibo simply set foot into this place. He goes with the latter, another lie to himself, added to the load.</span></p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1"><span class="s1">The bombs are pink and shiny... clean enough where he can gaze upon his reflection. It’s a shame, they could’ve all gotten out together if she just waited, if she didn’t let the urge to kill get the best of her. But it’s over, no need to dwell on that futile plan anymore. </span> <span class="s1">He feels just a bit bad he’d be crushing Kiibo’s wishes of no more murders occurring... but it’d be to end this, that’s good enough isn’t it? </span></p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1"><span class="s1">The remote to control the Exisals... he asked for this when the Monokubs were still a threat, but now it’s more useful than before. This all feels strange though, no more threats. Even with that everything feels ten time more menacing. </span> <span class="s1">He pockets the remote, deciding to leave the other things for later. </span></p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<hr/>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The last seven survivors of humanity. The decaying worlds last hope. It’s so unrealistic, sounding like a story he’d probably been told as a kid, that it might work. The others don’t really think, they just take what’s fed to them and run along with it. So it would work.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He flops back onto his bed. To his side lays a script he started hours ago. There’s not much in it yet, but he’ll be adding whatever he can possibly think of in it. A main route. Alternate scenarios. Anything, because can’t afford to lose, he <em>can’t</em>. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2">The motive video in his hands shuts off, the bloody and beaten sight of the other DICE members being burned into his retinas. It’s an everyday thing to watch this. To give him something to fight for? No. To make it clear that these people trapped inside the screen aren’t real.</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2">They’re a motive. Motives are fabrications created to twist people’s minds until they can’t stand being in this place and give into their urges, into a desire that is not theirs. DICE isn’t real, along with all those <span class="s1">false memories that have been implanted into his brain. And that’s probably the best news he’s received in this place.</span></p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2"><span class="s1">If they were real there would be no way for him to face them again. Kokichi himself had enforced a no killing rule, and what does he do? He goes against that and instigates a murder. </span> <span class="s1">He would describe DICE as a merry, carefree group of people. That would’ve all changed.</span></p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2">They’d spit in his face. They’d throw him away and never want to see his face again. Disappointment is putting it lightly. And in return he’d laugh in their faces, hard enough until he can’t breathe and tears sting his eyes, because they’re not fucking real. They can’t hate or love him because they don’t exist.</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2">And he hates them with every fiber of his being, because why love a <em>motive</em>? Why love something that was made specifically for the killing game?<br/><br/></p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2">The video turns on again, the light of the screen being bright enough to somewhat make his eyes burn. It goes through its fake little story and pitiful attempts to get bloodthirsty thoughts to dance around his brain, and he plays it again. It ends, and he plays it again. And again and again until he throws the pad into the wall with all his might. <br/><br/></p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2">“The most important people in his life-” It says, continuing it’s fake, infuriating story until shutting off completely. From day one he should’ve known they were fake instead of relying on that short clip of them and making it as far as he did because he thought something was awaiting him outside this academy. Why? Well, that answer to that is simple.</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2">Kokichi Ouma has no one. </p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2">That’s how it was meant to be from the very beginning.</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2">…</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And then he thinks about Gonta.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <strike> <span class="s1">Gonta died for nothing. We did what we did when we saw the outside world in ruins, but it was fake. It was all fake. You let something fake twist your mind and sink to the depths of this game. Gonta-</span></strike>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He dropped his head into his hands. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">How would have everything played out if he let Miu take his life? She wouldn’t get past Shuichi, no one does. Everyone would’ve lived for another few days before <em>another</em> murder takes place. Gonta wouldn’t be a murderer. And he wouldn’t see red, red, red all over his hands because he’d be long gone. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The only downside is that the killing game <em>still</em> wouldn’t end. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1"><span class="s1">Gonta didn’t deserve this. Kokichi knows that, he knows. But right now he can’t stick in the past because this attempt to end the killing game, it needs to work. Nothing can get in his way. Another situation like Gonta and Miu’s <em>needs</em> to be prevented.</span> So he shoves down any fondness of Gonta down into the depths of his brain, and brings lies to the surface. He hated Gonta. He would <em>never</em> cry for Gonta. <span class="s1"> <br/></span></p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">So then why was he crying right now? </p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<hr/>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The plan is ready, the script has almost reached it’s completion, and the murder weapon is decided. New areas opened up, he took a look at them overnight and found where the Exisals were stored.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1"><span class="s1">That was his chance to test if the remote worked, and it did. Miu never disappoints. During </span><span class="s1">his visit at the hangar he noticed a hydraulic press. That added the final piece to his unsolvable murder plan. Dying by that thing is not exactly ideal, the thought of it scared the hell out of him last night to the point of reconsidering it all, but to end the killing game. That’s what he has to keep telling himself so his fears don’t overtake him. </span> <span class="s1">Maybe in a few days he’d go through with it. </span></p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s so lost in his thoughts he almost doesn’t notice the faint knock. Almost.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ouma-kun. Are you in there?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Shuichi, he instantly recognizes the voice. But he’s not supposed to be here. What thought could've possibly crossed his mind to make him come here? </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“...I know you won’t answer that.” A sigh. “I just wanted to know if you’re alright. It’s... been a few days, I was starting to get worried.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Maybe it’s just the mastermind trying to lure him out of the safety of his room so they can bash his skull into the wall. He’s unmoving, trying to stay as silent as he possibly can.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I need you to respond, please.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There’s more knocking, most likely attempts to annoy him to the point where he gives in. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ouma-kun...”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Another sigh, sounding more frustrated this time, is audible. “Come on… answer me! Shout, cry, laugh. Something! I just need to know that you’re still <em>alive!</em>”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ouch. Shuichi hoping for him to be alive stings a little. It makes him wonder how Shuichi would react once he’s long gone. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He took a deep breath, deciding to humor the detective. “Aaah! I’m super dead! Saihara-chan found me too late... there’s nothing left of me.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“…Could you open the door?” Shuichi requests. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s going to die right there and then. “And why would I do that? You got what you wanted, so you can go away now.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How do I know you’re not someone pretending to be him?” Shuichi inquires.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re right! I could be a dear friend, sitting in this room with his rotting corpse. The second I open the door you could be my next victim.” That shuts the detective up for a moment before he presses his forehead against the door and whispers.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Please.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1"><span class="s1">With a huff</span> <span class="s1">, Kokichi rolls off his bed. For a second, when he wraps his hand around the knob, he remembers the possibility that this could be the mastermind standing outside his door, ready to end him before he ends this. Nonetheless,</span><span class="s1"> he </span><span class="s1">pulls the door open. “See? It’s me, I’m alive.” </span></p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Shuichi’s jaw dropped. Oh god. He must look like shit right now. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What-” He cuts him off by slamming the door in his face. “Wait!” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1"><span class="s1">He wrinkled his nose before </span> <span class="s1">swinging the door open once again. Shuichi stared at him, puzzled. </span><span class="s1">Kokichi shrugged, leaning against the doorframe. “Can you go now? I’m a little busy.” </span></p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Shuichi straightened up. “Ah, I have to tell you something first! Then I’ll be on my way…”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1"><span class="s1">Kokichi nods, promoting Shuichi to clear his throat. </span>“Momota-kun has a plan to end the game. We’re going to fight Monokuma apparently? And I don’t think we should do it without you... we all need to get out of here after all.”</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>That fucking <strong>idiot</strong>.</em> He fights down the urge to start screaming out of frustration, instead shutting his eyes in defeat. “You really think I should come along?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Shuichi bit his lip. “Yeah, I do.”  </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1"><span class="s1">He massaged his temples, releasing a long, hard sigh</span> <span class="s1">. “Okay.”</span></p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Shuichi perked up. “We’re meeting up at the gym tomorrow at nighttime, will you be there?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He would, but for a completely different reason. “Sure.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The response seems to satisfy Shuichi enough, he has a small smile on his face. He takes a few steps away before turning back again. “You… should get some rest before we go through with this, okay? You look pretty worn out.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay.” He says to appease him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Shuichi nods, turning away fully and taking his leave. Kokichi shuts the door gently, pressing his back against it and sliding down. All that’s left is turmoil. There Kaito goes again, making impulsive decisions that could get the group killed. He brings his knees to his chest and buries his face into them.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tomorrow. Tomorrow he’d usurp the mastermind’s role. That’s less time than he wanted, but he’ll make it work.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Even when everything already feels like it’s falling apart, he felt surprisingly ecstatic. A lot of things had just made him happy. What might be his final positive interaction with Shuichi, and the fact that the killing game would finally be over soon. <strike>I don’t want to fucking die.</strike></span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">...Should this really be the way to go about things? </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There’s a small class in his brain, every student having a replica of the various masks he’s created for himself stitched to their faces. The class screams yes for him to go through with this. Well, except for that one tiny faint voice in the back that whispers no. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That one lacks a mask.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That one is him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <strike>I don’t want this.</strike>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tears begin to haze his vision. He sinks his teeth down onto his tongue as hard as he can so that when the tears spill out, he can convince himself they started up because of the pain, and the tang of blood in his mouth. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“For my dearest audience...” He reaches towards the script, clicks the pen, and writes. “Your entertainment will come to its long needed close.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<hr/>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The nighttime announcement starts up. He showers. He eats something he was able to snatch from the dining hall without being seen. He thinks of a will to leave behind. ‘Twins b’ is written on a small slip of paper. He saw that message painted on one of the walls in the boiler room, it must be associated with the ‘horse a’ message. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">After he died, if this all failed, a certain detective would be snooping around for more answers to who Kokichi Ouma was, that’s fine by him. The note is sealed within an envelope. He pockets the Exisal remote once more and takes in his room one last time. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He was filled to the brim with tons of energy the second he woke up, so he’s not really thinking about that fact that he was going to die soon. Well, for the time being he wouldn’t jump straight into that. For now he’ll stick with holding the killing game on pause for as long as possible until the true mastermind gets desperate and makes a move. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He jogs to Miu’s research lab. The bombs are pocketed, the hammers are placed onto a cart, and he starts rolling it out the lab and to the gym.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Fight Monokuma... he snorts. Such a half-assed plan, but it’s expected when coming from the space idiot. A plan like that would definitely get everyone killed, Kokichi won’t allow that. Containing Kaito might be the best for everything, he’s a threat. And he’s frustrating, thinking he can get away with hiding his illness like that, thinking he can still play the hero while heaving his guts out behind the scenes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He hadn’t even noticed he made it in front of the gym doors. He hears a conversation coming from inside, so everyone’s already met up. Taking a few deep breaths to calm himself, he takes out one of the Electrobombs and pushes the doors open.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They listen to his malevolent speech. Claws wrap around his neck and dangle him in the air. They take Miu’s memento and enter the death road. He follows behind, careful not to be noticed.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They open the doors…</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They open the doors and scream and cry at the sight of the demolished world.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And he pulls out the Exisal remote, hiding it behind his back as he skips into the scene when their unconscious bodies fall to the floor. The doors are shut, and the end of the story begins.</span>
</p>
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